


Twofold in Them

by slamncram (GettheSalt)



Series: Trettien [8]
Category: Thor (Comics)
Genre: Battle, Battle Couple, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Jotunn Thor (Marvel), Jotunn | Frost Giant, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 19:22:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16248212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettheSalt/pseuds/slamncram
Summary: The enemies of Jotunheim always underestimated Laufey's runt and his war prize Asgardian ward. That was, without fail, to their peril.





	Twofold in Them

**Author's Note:**

> Fictober 8/31. That "What If?" comic is coming in just a few weeks and let me tell you... I am hungry for Jotun!Thorki yes please.

The enemies of Jotunheim always underestimated them. That was, without fail, to their peril.

The jötnar were giants. In every realm, they were told to be such. Tall, powerful, towering over the legions of their enemies and imposing for it. _Frost giants_. That was the term, the literal translation of what they were, and, for the most part, it was correct.

The ‘giant’ bit just didn’t attach itself well to Loki. As his father’s Asgardian ward, it didn’t attach itself well to Thor, either.

The enemies of Jotunheim learned, though. They always did. If they were fool enough to think that Laufey’s runt and almost dwarfish ward were simple to defeat, the weak links to be exploited, they were wrong. And they would learn that in, often, the most brutal of ways.

It was true that the jötnar did not adore runts. Loki had seen many left to the care of others or the mercy of the elements in his long life, and known that he was lucky to have been spared the same. It was the fate that would have awaited him, but he’d been blessed by the Norns. Gifted with seiðr so strong it had been foretold by the mystics his father had conferred with after Loki’s conception, and could be felt at the time of his birth.

Jotunheim’s enemies should have known that Laufey would not have allowed a son to live, much less to face them on the battlefield, if he had been born an ungifted runt.

Thor’s story was no secret, either. The son of Laufey’s greatest enemy, won in defeat. The fact that his father was the disgraced king of a formerly revered warrior people worked against him, so many thinking Thor could not ever achieve the greatness his father had squandered. The legacy that Odin left behind, Loki thought, was why so many underestimated him.

But on the battlefield, Thor was a force all on his own. Blonde hair wild, a golden symbol in a bloody fight, light catching in it the same as it did in the steel-hard head of his icy hammer. Hot, bloodthirsty eyes. His voice bellowing, promising defeat to those they fought. Enemies mistook Odin’s failure in battle as a shared trait, passed from father to son, and, encountering Thor on the battlefield, they fell to that folly.

Loki would watch, gleeful, while Thor became berzerker-like ahead of him. Fighting with his own seiðr, and his sharp, remorseless blades, putting himself close enough to watch Thor at work, Loki would gain a third weapon in Thor. A shield, one not so easily cut through.

The two of them were viewed as a weak link by Jotunheim’s enemies for their small stature. They were far from it. Jotunheim’s most deadly weapon was twofold in them, and neither stopped until the other was through.

When they’d been younger, a pair put together by Laufey to test the usefulness of his war prize as a shield for his gifted runt, that had come in a much different form than it did now. Then, it had been soothing words, clasped hands and foreheads pressed together, sharing a calm and slowing heartbeat from one to the other.

Now, older, more tested, with the bloodlust to match, it wasn’t nearly so gentle.

It was shouting, pulling, shoving. Dragging each other to their tent, where Thor could be warm when they tore at each other’s clothes, fell to the furs they’d slept on before battle, and expended the last of their energy.

Often, that meant Loki was pinned on his back and fucked, roughly, until Thor’s berzerker hunger was satisfied and they were both exhausted. The times when Loki did not quite feel done, when he didn’t feel his seiðr had been used fully in battle, he would use it to hold Thor still while he bounced on his cock, watching Thor’s desperation turn from chasing victory to chasing pleasure before he would release him and let them chase it together.

The enemies of Jotunheim could underestimate them, to their peril. For Loki and Thor, their enemies’ peril only lent to their pleasure.

On the battlefield, and beyond.


End file.
